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When I originally saw this SNL skit about laser cats I kind of thought it was dumb.

Then last night when I picked up Mallory and pretended to shoot laser beams out of her mouth at Heather, it dawned on me how funny the skit really is.

What’s got me stumped is, did I pretended to shoot laser beams out of my cats mouth subconsciously because of the skit, or was because the idea of lasers shooting out of a cat’s mouth is just awesome?

If you had the responsibility of making sure everyone on your wing of the building got off safely during a emergency, where’s the worst place you could be during a fire drill? 

If you were to say, “sitting on the can” you’d be correct.

If you had to take a random guess about what happened to me today, what would it be?

If you were to say, “you were sitting on the can when the fire alarm went off” you’d be correct again.

Other than the fact that when all this was happening, I literally said to myself, “well, I guess that means you’re done”; that’s pretty much my story about my crappy timing.  

My cousin asked me today to be his backup best man, or “pinch best man” if you will. My cousin’s best friend who is the starter best man is in the military and may possibly be out of the country on the big day. Being the “pinch best man” is a pretty sweet deal. I have none of the responsibilities of being the best man unless things don’t workout, then I get just step in save the day.  

Last night at the bowling alley Heather’s little brother, Denny, and I were in the restroom washing our hands. As we’re standing there a black woman came out of a stall, looking surprised, and asked us if she was in the women’s restroom or the men’s. When we told her she was in the men’s restroom she quickly yelled, “AWW SNAP!” and ran out.

Swear to God.

Heather and I went to Jersey Mike’s for lunch today. As I was signing for my card I noticed that the pen I was using was really cool. I had just picked the pen up from a basket that had six other pens just like it. Apparently Peter Tuttle, CPA had left a bunch of them there to promote his tax and insurance business. Since it was a promotional item I didn’t think it would be a big deal if I took the pen, but just to make sure I asked.

Big mistake.

The girl behind the counter acted like I was crazy for asking, Heather called me a mooch, and some retarded guy who works there added to the debacle by making a comment about how he couldn’t believe that the girl behind the counter might give away a free pen.

Lost in the barrage of something being blown out of proportion that was ultimately not a big deal, I felt somewhat ganged up on. Why was it so wrong that I asked for this promotional pen that was put there by Peter Tuttle, CPA? It looked like a nice pen that I could use at work. Hell I had even planned on checking out his website to see what kind of insurance he’s offering.

In the end the catastrophe that came from me asking a simple question subsided. Heather still thinks I’m a mooch and the retarded guy who works there is still retarded. But the girl behind the counter gave me the pen and I did actually try to look up Peter Tuttle’s, CPA website (it doesn’t work). I just hate that it caused such a giant stink.

A pile of laundry sat on my dinning room table, staring at me, since Sunday afternoon. A wicked lump that refused to move, it taunted me daily. I’d set things on the table, only to have them completely engulfed and lost within a matter of minutes. I tried to explain to the pile how busy I was, but it didn’t care. It only laughed in my face when I tried to explain that I’ve been working really hard this week. It scoffed at me when I told it that I’ve been going to physical therapy every night to get my back fixed. It just rolled its laundry eyes when I told it I had a migraine. It even mocked me when I tried to tell it that the little free time I had was spent running errands. The pile was ruthless and cold hearted.

Beaten and belittled, yesterday in between writing an angry letter to BP and and making dinner, I finally decided to kick that pile of laundry in its laundry nuts. A tremendous battle ensued. We fought for what seemed like forever. Lives and socks were almost lost! However, in the end I tamed that wild beast of a pile and I was able to finally get all those clothes hung up and put away.

“Victory!”, I yelled as I raised my arms into the air.

The melee was finally over and I had won. 

Fun Fact: Every time Heather or I win something, we begin the conversation of telling each other by singing, “Guess who’s back. back again. [INSERT NAME HERE]’s back. Tell a friend. Guess who’s back. Guess who’s back. Guess who’s back. Guess who’s back.”

Why do we sing the lyrics of Without Me by Eminem? Because somehow we win a lot of stuff and it seems that we have a talent of always winning a lot of stuff. For example, on Friday at work I won two tickets to a Predator’s hockey game in my company’s suite. Of course it’s not as awesome as the two Titan’s tickets (in the company suite) I won last year, but it’s still really nice.

Tuesday I started putting together the information for my company’s insurance renewal (FYI: An insurance renewal is when a company renews its insurance because the old insurance has expired). However, it just doesn’t roll over like the insurance you or I might have. Since businesses are colossal liabilities just waiting to happen, insurance companies just don’t come knocking on your door saying, “buy insurance from me”.

For a business to get insurance, people (me) have to put together tons of information about the company and submit it to a insurance broker. This packet of information is full of stuff like what the company does, how much money they make, how many insurance losses they have, how many assets they have, etc. The broker then takes this awesome packet of information that has been put together and goes to various insurance companies and says, “hey fellas, these guys are cool, why don’t you give them some insurance”.

Since a really important step in the process is to actually put together this book of information, its made me a busy guy. Also, since my boss said that he wants to have this book buy June, 28th, it’s made me an extremely busy guy.  

I’m going to a new doctor on Wednesday for my back (it still a lot from my car wreck) and he asked that I bring a copy of my x-rays that were taken at the ER. So during my lunch break I ran over to Saint Thomas hospital. After driving around that building twice and then walking around aimlessly for about 10 minutes, I decided that Saint Thomas is the most confusing hospital ever. But you will be happy to know that I did actually find where I needed to go; although it was by pure accident.

Incase your interested, here’s a picture of my spine:

Today is Mallory’s (my cat) 3rd birthday. To celebrate Heather and I are going to buy her a new cardboard scratcher and a birthday cake. Since of course she can’t eat the birthday cake, we’ll just eat it for her and tell her how good it is.